


Spice

by inlovewithnight



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demi hates pumpkin spice season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fivewhatfive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivewhatfive/gifts).



"Pumpkin spice," Selena said, writing it on the chalkboard with a dramatic flourish. "It's that time again." 

Demi wrinkled her nose. "Pumpkin _gross_ , you mean." 

"Everyone likes it but you." Selena flashed her a grin and carried the chalkboard out to the sidewalk. 

Demi leaned on the counter and closed her eyes, wishing she could nap standing up like a horse. Opening shift was horrible. Selena being perky about it was worse. 

Or, well, it would be, except... Selena. She was good for everything, somehow. 

"Don't worry, hon," Selena said, coming back inside and wiping the chalk off her hands on her apron. "You don't have to talk it up or drink it." 

"But I'll smell like it. Forever." 

"Is that better or worse than just smelling like coffee?" 

Demi made a face and pushed off the counter. "I don't mind smelling like coffee. And I wouldn't mind smelling like apple cider or something. But pumpkin spice is--" 

"Your sworn enemy." Selena grinned at her and tapped in the code to open the cash register. "I know, babe." 

Demi felt heat flush her face and stepped away to fuss with a stack of cups. Selena was... confusing, sometimes, with her endearments and her smiles that flashed white teeth behind perfectly even lipstick that always matched her nails. 

Today they were both a deep purple, perfect for fall. When it got colder, Selena would bring out her holiday colors and go candy-red, and Demi would get flustered and burn the espresso shots too badly to hide the taste under extra layers of syrup. 

Not that she would ever do that. That was against policy, and someone might complain. Then her manager would have to talk to her, and her manager was Selena, and-- 

Thinking about Selena being stern with her was way too distracting for this early in the morning. 

"Here we go," Selena said as the bells on the door chimed. "Showtime." Her voice went up to a chirp as the first customer of the day stepped inside. "Good morning! How can I help you today?" 

** 

Demi was doing community college part-time, which was good and all except for when she was tired and she'd burned her wrist on the stupid machine and her hair was holding a cloud of pumpkin spice misery around her head. 

Concentrating on accounting principles was impossible under the circumstances. 

She flipped to a blank page in her notebook and wrote some notes to herself, instead. 

_Open mic night--Thursday_  
Finish the song!  
Practice!  
Outfit! Makeup! Nails! 

She frowned at the list. She should probably drop out if she wasn't ready by now. Maybe it was a sign. 

_Maybe the song just sucks. Or maybe I'm being self-defeating. One more thing to talk about at therapy!_

She sighed and closed her notebook as the class started to break up around her. Doing the open mic night had been her therapist's _idea_. No way would she let Demi back out now. 

** 

"Babe," Selena said sternly, her hands on her hips. 

Demi blinked. "What?" 

"That is not your color." 

Demi followed Selena's gaze down to Demi's own hands, flat on the counter. She'd picked out a lemon-yellow polish at the drugstore on a whim. "It's supposed to draw attention to my hands." 

"Why?" 

Demi shrugged and curled her fingers to her palms. "I'm doing this stupid... I'm playing guitar at this thing, and I want my hands to look nice." 

"They don't look nice, though." Selena's voice was gentle, not mean, but Demi still felt a hot liquid rush of embarrassment and excitement. God. She was such a loser. 

"I've got a silver that will look great. And sparkle! That'll really draw attention." Selena flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. "When are you playing?" 

"Thursday night." 

"Where? I'll come." 

"Oh." Demi choked a little, shaking her head and clearing her throat hard. "You don't have to." 

"Psh." Selena waved her hand. "It sounds fun. Where and what time?" 

At least, Demi thought miserably, the song wasn't about her. 

** 

Selena sat in the front row, close enough to the little stage that she could have reached out and touched Demi's guitar if she wanted to. Demi didn't know where to look; she didn't want to _avoid_ looking at Selena, but if she openly stared at her the whole time, she would look like a weirdo. And she would probably forget her lyrics. 

She ended up looking at a bright red flyer stuck to the opposite wall, keeping her eyes locked straight ahead through her song. She didn't forget any words or any chords; her voice wobbled in a few places, but never broke. When she played the last note and let her guitar settle in her lap, she smiled and said a silent thank-you to that piece of red paper. She'd done it. Her therapist would be off her ass for at least a week. 

Selena cheered the loudest, throwing her hands in the air right there in the front row, reaching out to grab at Demi's. "That was so awesome! Demi! You're so great, girl, I'm so proud of you!" 

"I'm proud of me, too," Demi said, smiling down at her. The crowd laughed, and she realized the mic was still on. Heat flooded her face and she scrambled to gather up her pick and guitar, her hair falling down in her face to shield her from the crowd. 

"C'mon, hon." Selena walked along the edge of the stage with her until she came to the stairs. "You did so great, your voice is so amazing! Let's celebrate!" 

"We don't even know if I've won anything yet." 

Selena tossed her hair. "I don't care what these people think, do you? I declare you the winner. There. Done." 

Demi had to laugh. "Do you have a prize for me?" 

Selena licked her lips and hooked her arm through Demi's. "I'll buy you coffee." 

** 

They ended up at their own shop, both giggling as they settled at a corner table. Demi propped her guitar case against the wall and raised her eyebrows at Selena. "What can I get you?" 

Selena rolled her eyes. "I'm buying, silly, it's your prize!" 

"Like Tauheed won't give them to you for free." Demi waved to the night-shift barista, who grinned back over his stack of textbooks. 

"That would be against policy," Selena said dramatically. "I could never do such a thing." 

"Sure." Demi shook her head. "I want anything except pumpkin spice." 

"Be a hater forever, babe. Never change." Selena bounced over to the counter, leaning in to confer with Tauheed. 

Demi rubbed her hands on her jeans under the table, looking out the window at the headlights of cars moving down the street. Having Selena be happy for her, proud of her, was so nice it was kind of embarrassing. She'd probably made a fool of herself about it. Selena was probably making fun of her to Tauheed right now. 

She risked a glance over at them and caught Selena looking at her with a wide, sweet smile without a trace of mocking it in. Oh god, she really was just _nice_. What was Demi supposed to do with that? 

"Here we go," Selena said when she came back to the table. "Pumpkin spice for me, and a peppermint mocha for you." 

Demi smiled and wrapped her hands around the cup. "I didn't think we were selling these yet." 

"Well, it wouldn't be a prize if just anyone could have it." Selena swung her feet in slow arcs under the table, sipping her drink. "Gosh, Miss Barista, why doesn't this taste like pumpkin? It's supposed to be _pumpkin_ spice!" 

Demi let her head drop to the table with a thunk. "Please. _Please_." 

"Just say it. You know you want to say it." 

Demi took a deep breath. "It's pumpkin _spice_ , as in the spices you'd put in pumpkin pie, as in nutmeg, please stop!" 

Selena giggled and petted Demi's hair until she sat up again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't mess with you." 

Demi blushed. "It's okay. I know it's... you know, it's you. It's not mean." 

"My ex always said I didn't quite know when to quit." Selena looked down at her cup for a minute, then shrugged and took another drink. "Maybe that's true, I dunno." 

Demi hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her fingertips. "Is that... is that why you broke up?" 

Selena shook her head and picked at the lip of her cup. "She moved to New York for school. Maybe that was part of it, though? Like, why we didn't try to do long-distance?" 

Demi barely heard her. Her chest had frozen up at the first word. 

She glanced sideways at Selena, from the corner of her eye, and caught Selena looking back at her through her lashes, a tiny smile on her lips. 

They were red today, some part of Demi's brain noticed absently. Candy red. 

"Oh," she finally said, faintly. "Well. Her loss." 

"Totally her loss." Selena reached out and tapped the back of Demi's hand. "So... have we both been signaling all over the place and thinking the other one was just being nice?" 

Demi knew her hand was shaking, but Selena didn't seem to mind. Demi turned her wrist slowly, so her palm was up, and Selena put their hands together, fingers twined. 

"Awesome," Selena said, and gently tugged her in for a kiss.


End file.
